


Four Times Watson Saw Irene Naked Accidently (And One Time it Was Completely Deliberate)

by Sanguineheroine



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Naked Lady, Threesome - F/M/M, Watson is a Gentleman, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 13:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1859700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanguineheroine/pseuds/Sanguineheroine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's more likely you are about to read the tale of 'Four Times Irene Totally Intended For Watson To See Her Lady Garden And One Time He Actually Hoed A Row'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Watson Saw Irene Naked Accidently (And One Time it Was Completely Deliberate)

_i._

Watson is welcomed back to Baker Street by the sound of breaking glass.

He takes the stairs as fast as he is able, impelled by the ongoing soundscape of the struggle occurring in the first floor sitting room. When he flings the door open, Watson ia greeted from the armchair by a cheery (if unusually dishevelled) Holmes and offered no explanation as to the source of the ruckus.

The source of the ruckus, as it happens, is stretched out naked upon the settee.

“Irene Adler” she introduced herself, hand outstretched “I do apologise for my rather informal attire, but Mr Holmes didn’t inform me were expecting company.”

He raises her knuckles to his lips and murmurs

“A pleasure, I’m sure” before backing out of the room as speedily as he entered it, dislodging yesterday’s supper tray from its perch on the sideboard on his way out.

The last thing he sees is the creamy curve of her back and Holmes’s laughing eyes.

 

_ii._

When Watson goes to Holmes’s bedroom to search for a missing cufflink, he hardly expects to find instead a naked woman, gagged and cuffed to the bed head.

Always a gentleman, he removes the gag swiftly and waits for her to recover before asking

“What are you doing here?” Before she can answer he gips her bound hands and demands “Where’s Holmes?”

“Sherlock felt that my interests were contrary to the cause of justice and as such any further action on my part should be curtailed.” She tossed her head indignantly before angling a perfectly lacquered toe at the bedside table.

“He left you a note.”

Watson steps back to the doorway before unfolding the hastily written missive

_Dearest Watson_ [it read]

_In the care of Britain’s best, will be home before supper._  
 _I’m sure that you and The Woman can keep yourself entertained_  
 _until then._

_Regards,_

_SH_

Watson smiles and tucks the note into his pocket, then he fetches Holmes’s dressing gown from the wardrobe and wraps her in it. To set her at ease he takes off his own coat and thusly attired they settle down to a game of chess.

 

_iii._

“Holmes!” Watson beat insistently upon the closed door “it’s almost one o’clock, and we’ve an appointment with-”

The door opens just wide enough for him to see her body, and none of the room beyond. There is a dark flush across her chest, and she smells of sex and Holmes’s cologne.

“Mrs Norton?” She smiles sweetly up at him “I am she.”

“Mr Holmes and I” she moves closer, close enough for Watson to feel the heat of her body and the soft press of her breasts against his chest “are in conference, but we could always use another good head.”

She slides a small warm hand over his crotch and smiles wider when she finds him hard. With the other hand she pushes the door open wider to reveal Holmes stretched out across tangled sheets, stroking himself lazily and watching them through slitted eyes.

Her laughter pursues Watson all the way back to his bedroom.

 

   
 _iv._

Watson is woken by an unsteady tread on the stairs and a familiar feminine giggle.

He throws on his dressing gown and goes down to the sitting room, a polite request for quiet dying upon his lips when he slips through the open door and sees them on the hearth rug.

They are completely naked, their skin gilded with sweat and firelight. She is astride Holmes’s lap, her thighs working to raise and lower her body over his. Her head is forward over his shoulder but his is upright and alert, and his eyes though the pupils are overblown are keen. Watson finds himself held by that gaze almost against his will, and not in the least surprised when the watchfulness softens into an invitation.

He shakes his head with a fond smile and turns to go, making sure to close the door behind him.

 

_v._

The bedstead is narrow and Watson’s shoulder makes things extremely awkward but they manage to settle themselves with him laid flat out, her in his lap and Holmes curved into his side kissing him with a hot eager tongue.

When she has exhausted herself, she goes off into the other room to sleep and Watson brings Holmes off clumsily with his good hand while Holmes gasps out curses against his lip and jaw. When Holmes finally drifts off to sleep, Watson dresses himself and sits up by the door to keep a vigil over his sleeping lovers.


End file.
